There is a process called the jail run. I'm not a fan. Not so much in terms of principal, but rather because I find that I am personally ill-suited to do much good there.
Essentially, a judge will bring to court a number of those accused that have been in custody for a given amount of time and have failed to bond out and retain counsel. When it comes to dispensing "justice" it's lacking. However, convenience is in abundance. It's Let's Make a Deal.
Of course, this post has nothing much to do with jail runs, other than that is how the story begins. About six months ago, I was making an appearance with a particularly nervous client in the Magistrate Court for additional bond condition to be added. It was the same morning as a felony jail run.
My instinct is rarely wrong. I knew that if I was in the Mag Court any more than absolutely necessary, I might well be tapped to represent someone on this jail run.
Mind you, I have no problem representing the indigent, or representing those a given judge might ask me to represent. But there are two places that I seem to be least effective as a criminal defense lawyer; in front of a small town jury and with a newly-appointed felony jail run client.
With Irish luck in tow, I heard the voice; "Mr. Matlock, would you have time to represent someone this morning?" I did, but I didn't want to admit to it. But before I could come up with an excuse, I heard "Thank you." And what do we have for the winners, Johnny!
I briefly spoke to the prosecutor about the case, then I went into the holding cell area. My client was a a forty-seven year-old African American woman with four prior felony convictions and five prior misdemeanor convictions. She was charged with stealing $76 worth of items from a dollar store. However, because of her prior felony history, she was potentially looking at a third degree felony. That's between two and ten years in prison and up to a $10,000 fine for those keeping score at home.
I spoke with her briefly. It was a quick exchange involving numerous emotions; fear, contempt, distrust, sadness. These were primarily hers.
She was willing to take a 12.44(a). Who isn't I thought. Unfortunately, with four prior felonies, it wasn't an option. Then she would take a year. The prosecutor handling the case that day, who is one of the nicest people I know, was firm on 17 months. No deal. The case was reset, and she was sent back to county.
Over the next month or two, I saw her either in the jail or in a couple of court appearances. We couldn't reach a deal with the State, so it seemed the inevitable worthless trial was in the works. But then, she bonded out.
Keep in mind, she always told me she would do just that and when she did, she would get herself a "free-world lawyer." Fine by me, I thought. But after she bonded out, she would call and ask serious questions. Then, at one court appearance, she brought her new husband. She had a look about her that was different. Not just the out-of-custody glow, but something.
We finally ended up at "The River." Put up or shut up. The prosecutor at this time was firm on some time, but was willing to go to the minimum; two years. I talked it over with my client, but she was not wiling to go back to prison. She was different she told me. So did her husband. Adamantly.
I told her there was little to gain by going to trial. The guilt/ innocence was not an issue, and with her history, the punishment would not get better than the two years offered. I told her we could do an open plea and ask for a long PSI. A PSI is short for presentence report. It's done by the probation department, and it serves as a way of getting an overall picture of a person; good and bad.
Up to this point, she had had the glow for about two months. With her history of drugs and crime, I was fully prepared for her to test positive while out on bond. She didn't. I expected the probation officer doing the PSI to report that she needed simply to go back to prison, this time for the fifth time in her forty-something years. Oddly, that didn't happen.
When the PSI came back, I was nothing less than shocked. Keep in mind, when I spoke to her after she bonded out, I told her it would be very important for her to stay out of trouble and keep clean. When we decided to do the open plea, I reminded her of this. She agreed, and she told me that she was changing her life.
Of course, every criminal defendant says that. The threat of prison, no matter how many times you've been there before, has the strange effect of at least giving a defendant a moment of pause. As we know, all too often it is short-lived.
When the PSI finally arrived on my desk, I quickly flipped through it expecting the worst. I found only the best. Sure there was the history of incarceration and drug abuse, but there was more. It seems the biggest reason my client had used drugs in the past was that she suffered from mental health issues. This had led to a vicious cycle.
She self-medicated. This caused her to steal to pay for her drugs. She got caught. She was incarcerated. As the PSI concluded, this cycle took up almost 75% of her life.
But beyond that was the fact that this drug addict since age 14 had been clean for over six months. Not a single positive test. She had gotten married, moved into the Salvation Army shelter and completed their drug intervention program. She had, in essence, cleaned up her life. Literally.
However, sentencing day awaited. This could of all have been for nothing. The chances of her coming out of prison with the same mindset she had been able to obtain were slim. But that hadn't deterred her. She wanted to clean up her act, and she had.
When we arrived for sentencing, no one was more surprised than the judge. Of course the judge had seen countless defendants in the same situation not make the choice to change like my client had. So, with the choice made, the chance was given.
The easiest thing in the world for the judge to do would have been to simply send her for prison trip number five. But she didn't just claim to have changed, rather she had changed. The judge recognized this. And kudos have to go to the prosecutor handling the case at this point. He could have argued for time, and a lot of it really. He didn't. He left up to the judge.
What started as a jail run client being offered prison time ended with a client who had made the choice to clean up her life. It can't be hard to kick a drug habit after thirty-something years of addiction. But she made that choice. Because of her choice and her effort, the judge gave her the chance. Six years of probation.
Will she successfully complete it? I don't know. But she has her chance. And sometimes, that all you can ask for.
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